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America  passes  by 


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THF  A  M  A  7HN^  Farce  in  Three  Acts.  Seven  males,  five  fe- 
illEi  niUAliUlliJ  males.  Costumes,  modern;  scenery,  not 
difficult.  Plays  a  full  evening. 

THF  TARINFT  M1NKTFR    Farc®  in  Four  Act9-     Ten 

IlUi  CADliNU  mllNlOlLK  males,  nine  females.  Cos 
tomes,  modern  society;  scenery,  three  interiors.  Plays  a  fall  evening* 

DAISinY  nif?f  Farce  in  Three  Acts.  Seven  males,  foar  fe- 
""»'*'  »  U*  VxIV  males.  Costumes,  modern  ;  scenery,  two  inte 
riors.  Plays  two  hours  and  a  half. 

TUI7  C  AY  1  fiPH  flllFY  Comedy  in  Four  Acts.  Fourmales. 
Int  UAI  LUKJJ  IjULA  ten  fernales.  Costumes,  modern  • 
scenery,  two  interiors  and  an  exterior.  Plays  a  full  evening. 

HIQ  UniTQF  IN  nPHPP  Comedy  in  Four  Acts.  Nine  males, 
nlO  nUUdL  in  UKUCJl  four  females.  Costumes,  modern; 
seenery,  three  interiors.  Plays  a  full  evening. 


HARRY  UHDQF    Comedy  in  Three  Acts.    Ten  males, 
MUODl    nUJVOC.    five  females.       Costumes,   modern; 
scenery  easy.    Plays  two  hours  and  a  half. 

ID  1C  Drama  in  Five  Acts.  Seven  males,  seven  females.  Costnmes, 
«I»U  modern  ;  scenery,  three  interiors.  Plays  a  full  evening. 

I  AHV  RfilTNTIFITI  Play  in  Four  Acts.  Eight  males,  seren 
LAD1  1  DUUmirUL  females.  Costumes,  modern;  scen 
ery,  four  Interiors,  not  easy.  Plays  a  full  evening. 

I  FTTY  Drama  in  Four  Acts  and  an  Epilogue.  Ten  males,  five 
**"«  «  *  females.  Costumes,  modern;  scenery  complicated. 
Plays  a  full  evening. 

THF  M  A  PIQTP  ATF  Farce  in  Three  Acts.  Twelve  males, 
HIE  lTin.UlplIV/il£i  four  females.  Costumes,  modern; 
Seenery,  all  interior.  Plays  two  hours  and  a  half. 


Sent  prepaid  on  receipt  of  price  by 

Walter  J$.  pafeer  &  Company 

No.  s  Hamilton  Place,  Boston,  Massachusetts 


America  Passes  By 


A  Play  in  One  Act 


By 
KENNETH  ANDREWS 

Author  of  "The   Tear  of  the  Tiger,"  "A  Crooked 
Man  and  His  Crooked  Wife,"  etc. 


NOTE 

Both  the  amateur  and  professional  stage-rights  of  this  play  are 
strictly  reserved.  Public  performance  of  the  play  without  per 
mission  is  forbidden.  In  the  case  of  amateurs  a  royalty  of  $5.00 
for  each  performance  will  be  charged.  Persons  wishing  to  pro 
duce  this  play  may  apply  to  the  author  in  care  of  the  publishers. 


BOSTON 

WALTER  H.  BAKER  &  CO. 

1917 


America  Passes  By 


CHARACTERS 

(As  originally  produced  on  April  u,  1916,  at  the  Hasty  Pudding  Theatre, 
Cambridge,  Mass.,   by  the  Harvard  Dramatic  Club.) 

A  YOUNG  MAN W.  H.  Roope 

His  FIANCEE  ....        Elizabeth  S.  Allen 

A  YOUNG  HUSBAND  J.  Hammond 

His  WIFE      .         ..  . .    .         .         .         .        Priscilla  May 

SCENE. — A  small  flat  in  Chicago. 


COPYRIGHT,  1917,  BY  KENNETH  ANDREWS 
Professional  stage  and  moving  picture  rights  reserved. 


PLEASE  NOTICE 

The  professional  stage-rights  in  this  play  are  strictly  reserved  by  the 
author,  to  whom  applications  for  its  use  should  be  addressed.  Amateurs 
may  obtain  permission  to  produce  it  privately  on  payment  to  him  of  a  fee 
of  rive  dollars  ($5.00)  for  each  performance,  in  advance.  Correspondence 
on  this  subject  may  be  addressed  to  Kenneth  Andrews,  in  care  of  the 
publishers. 

Attention  is  called  to  the  penalties  provided  by  law  for  any  infringe 
ments  of  his  rights,  as  follows: 


"  SEC.  4966 : — Any  person  publicly  performing  or  representing  any  dramatic  or 
musical  composition  for  which  copyright  has  been  obtained,  without  the  consent  of  the 
proprietor  of  said  dramatic  or  musical  composition,  or  his  heirs  and  assigns,  shall  be 
liable  for  damages  therefor,  such  damages  in  all  cases  to  be  assessed  at  such  sum,  not 
less  than  one  hundred  dollars  for  the  first  and  fifty  dollars  for  every  subsequent  per 
formance,  as  to  the  court  shall  appear  to  be  just.  If  the  unlawful  performance  and 
representation  be  wilful  and  for  profit,  such  person  or  persons  shall  be  guilty  of  a  mis 
demeanor,  and  upon  conviction  be  imprisoned  for  a  period  not  exceeding  one  year."— 
U.  S.  REVISED  STATUTES,  Title  60,  Chap.  j. 


931753 


America  Passes  By 


SCENE. — The  living-room  of  a  small  flat.  It  is  a  delightful 
little  room  furnished  with  care  and  taste ;  bright,  but  not 
flashy.  At  the  rear  is  a  double  doorway  opening  into  the 
"  square  hall.  "  In  the  hall  are  visible  a  hat-stand  with  its 
mirror,  a  bag  of  golf  clubs,  etc.  In  the  living-room,  to  the 
left  of  the  hall  doorway,  is  a  tall  piano  lamp  (though  there 
is  no  piano)  with  a  deep  amber  shade.  At  the  right  of  the 
doorway  is  a  small  square  black  table  with  visiting  cards 
upon  it.  In  front  of  the  wide  low  fireplace,  which  is  at  the 
right  and  quite  far  front,  is  a  davenport  attractive  enough 
of  itself  and  in  harmony  with  the  walls  and  hangings,  but 
too  large  for  the  room.  Indeed  the  room  has  evidently 
been  decorated  with  this  piece  of  furniture  in  mind.  In  the 
left-hand  wall,  almost  opposite  the  fireplace,  is  a  window 
which  is  also  too  large  for  the  room  :  plainly  having  been 
constructed  with  a  view  to  its  exterior  aspects.  In  front  of 
the  window  is  a  bright  brass  smoking  set.  Grouped  about 
are  several  smart  but  rather  comfortable  looking  chairs. 

(ANNE  appears  in  the  hall,  followed  by  KATE.  ANNE  has 
given  her  coat  to  KATE,  and  is  removing  her  hat  and  veil. 
ANNE  is  a  very  pretty  girl,  but  she  is  dressed  very  plainly 
and  beside  KATE  she  seems  almost  dowdy.  KATE  is  like 
the  living-room  :  bright  but  not  flashy.  Her  striking 
"  house- gown  "  is  tasteful  enough — on  her.) 

KATE  (hanging  ANNE'S  coat  on  the  hat-stand).  Hurry  with 
the  veil.  I'm  dying  to  see  what  you  look  like. 

ANNE  (surrendering  her  hat  and  veil).  Ho  !  You  em 
barrass  me  ! 

KATE  (putting  her  arm  about  ANNE  and  bringing  her  into 
the  room).  Did  I  ?  Oh,  I'm  so  sorry.  But  we  haven't  a 
single  manner.  There  simply  isn't  room  for  them  in  a  honey 
moon  flat. 

ANNE  (as  they  sit  on  the  davenport).  So  this  is  the  flat  at 
last.  (She  can  t  resist  a  glance  around.) 

5 


O  AMERICA    PASSES    BY 

KATE  (seizing  her  hands).     And  this  is  Anne  !  at  last. 

ANNE  (smiting).     Do  you  think  I  look  like  a  missionary  ? 

KATE.  No!  (Springs  up.)  Oh,  dear  me !  I  forgot.  (She 
fiies  to  the  little  black  table  anil  takes  a  bright  new  Bible  from 
the  drawer.)  Bill  told  us  to  be  sure  and  have  it  in  a  conspicu 
ous  place.  So  we  bought  one  specially — just  for  fun.  (Glee 
fully  she  places  it  on  the  mantelpiece.)  There. 

ANNE  (a  little  startled).  Well,  1 — I  am  a  sort  of  a  mis 
sionary  :  I've  always  tried  to  help — you  knew  that,  didn't  you  ? 

KATE  (undaunted).  Dear  me,  yes.  I  mean,  we  heard  all 
about  you  from  Bill.  (Again  on  the  davenport  beside  her.) 
He  does  so  love  to  talk  about  his  fiancee. 

ANNE  {puzzled).     Bill? 

KATE.     Yes.     Don't  you  call  him  Bill  ? 

ANNE.     No,  I — I  call  him  Benjamin. 

KATE.  Oh,  of  course.  But  we  always  called  him  Bill.  I 
don't  know  why  it  seemed  to  fit  him. 

ANNE.  Fit  him?  Bill?  I  don't  see  why  it  fits  him,  I'm 
afraid. 

KATE.  Well — we  grew  up  together,  you  know — and  when 
Bill  was  a  little  kiddie  he  used  to  say  (imitating),  "1  wish  my 
name  was  Bill.  It  sounds  tough."  So  we 

(She  breaks  off,  laughing. ) 

ANNE.     Hm. 

KATE.  He  always  wrote  about  you  as  "  the  other  white 
person  in  Japan." 

ANNE  (laughing).  That's  like  him.  Oh,  it  was  so  wonder 
ful,  Mrs. 

KATE.     Don't  call  me  Missus.     Mercy  !     Call  me  Kate! 

ANNE.     You  see,  K-Kate,  I've  always  lived  in  Japan 


KATE.     Never  been  in  America  before  !     Think  of  that ! 

ANNE.  And  when  Benjamin  came You  won't  mind 

if  I  talk  about  him  ?  You'll  understand  because  you've  just 
married. 

KATE  (dubiously  accepting  this).     We-ell,  two  months. 

ANNE.  I  do  so  want  to  talk  about  him.  There's  been  no 
one  but  old  maids,  and  missionaries — and  that's  not  the 
same 

KATE  (throwing  her  arms  about  her).  You  poor  child  \ 
Tell  me  everything  !  What  would  be  the  fun  of  being  in  love 
if  you  couldn't  talk  about  it? 


AMERICA    PASSES    BY  7 

ANNE  (laughing}.  It  was  such  a  perfect  love-story.  Most 
of  it  happened  in  a  wonderful  Japanese  garden,  full  of  big 
shadows  and  stone  lanterns  and  everything. 

KATE.     Just  what  Bill  said  :  a  perfect  love-story  ! 

ANNE.  And  Benjamin  was  such  a  perfect  prince — so  just  a 
boy,  and 

KATE.     Bill  certainly  is  a  prince. 

ANNE.  And  we  think  we'd  like  to  live  always  near  the 
garden.  Perhaps  we  shall.  Benjamin  hasn't  quite  decided 

KATE  (aghast).     Bill  a  missionary  ! 

ANNE.  He  was  fully  in  the  notion  in  Japan — and  in  the 
garden.  But  .  .  .  America  seems  to  have  changed  him. 

KATE  (ivide-eyed).     You  say  he  was  in  the  notion  in  Japan  ? 

ANNE  (innocently).     Yes.     Why  not? 

KATE.  N-nothing.  Only  we  thought  you'd  live  in  Chicago. 
Pa  and  I  had  picked  out  the  flat  for  you 

ANNE.     Pa? 

KATE.     Yes.     Ha,  ha  !     I  call  him  "Pa." 

ANNE.     You  mean  your  father  ? 

KATE  (stifling  a  laugh).     No  !     I  mean  George  ! 

ANNE.     Oh,  your  husband. 

KATE.  Yes,  I  can't  seem  to  get  used  to  calling  him  "  my 
husband." 

ANNE.     So  you  call  him  "  Pa  "  ? 

KATE.     Yes.     It's  silly,  isn't  it? 

ANNE  (tapping  her  foot  in  thought).  And — he  calls  you — 
"Ma"? 

KATE  (embarrassed).     Yes. 

ANNE.     Oh ! 

KATE.  You  see,  P-P — George  and  I  thought  it  would  be  so 
jolly  to  have  you  two  across  the  street — and  we  wanted  you  to 
get  married  in  our  flat 

ANNE.  It  would  be  jolly,  I  suppose,  if  I  could  ever  learn  to 
be  an  American. 

KATE.     Better  than  Japan,  don't  you  think? 

ANNE.  I — I  sometimes  wonder.  Benjamin  has  s-seemed 
different  in  Chicago.  America  seems  to  have  changed  him. 
But  that's  just  silly.  It's  just  that  I'm  so  terribly  sensitive. 
If  anything  should  happen  ! 

KATE  {from  the  heights  of  her  two  months'  experience). 
That's  it.  I  was  the  same  way.  Pa  tried  to  get  away  twice 
after  we  were  engaged. 

ANNE  (shocked  and  mystified).     To  get  away? 


8  AMERICA    PASSES    BY 

KATE.     Yes,  indeed.     They  will  if  you  don't  watch  them. 
(She  goes  to  the  doorway  and  stands  listening.') 

ANNE.  Oh,  Kate,  I — I  didn't  mean  that.  But  I  know  how 
good  Benjamin  is,  that  he  does  have  such  dear  ideals,  and — of 
course  that  sounds  like  an  engaged  girl 

KATE  (listening}.  There  they  come  at  last.  I  do  hope  no 
one  sees  them. 

ANNE.      Where  is  Benjamin  ?     1  thought  he'd  meet  me  here. 

KATE.     He  and  Pa  stepped  out  after  a  pail  of  b 

(She  catches  herself  and  looks  at  ANNE.) 

ANNE.     A  what ! 

KATE  (laughing  uncomfortably).  You  see,  Pa  thought  since 
Bill  had  been  away  for  so  long,  they  ought  to  have  a  kind  of  a 
party,  as  he  said.  So 

ANNE.     What  did  they  go  to  get?     (As  though  hurt.) 

KATE.  Well,  they  went  to  get  a  pail  of  beer.  Of  course 
that's  just  what  they  said. 

ANNE  (a  little  bewildered}.  I — suppose  I'm  silly  and  nar 
row,  but  that  does  seem  a  little  strange 

KATE.  Anne,  dear  !  We  never  drink It  was  just  an 

impulse Of  course  just  beer.  They — sillies — said  it 

would  be  so  "clubby"  and  plebeian.  A  pail,  you  know! 

(Her  enthusiasm  for  the  "party"  is  plainly  forced,  and 
fails  to  infect  ANNE.) 

ANNE.     I  shan't  s-spoil  anything.     You  needn't  explain  — 

KATE.  There  they  are.  Just  excuse  me.  (She  goes  out 
with  assumed  airiness.  Her  voice,  in  a  clearly  audible  whis 
per,  outside.}  But,  Bill,  you  old  loon,  you  knew  she  wouldn't 
like  it.! 

BILL  (outside).     Ah,  the  dickens,  we've  only 

KATE  (outside).     Not  so  loud,  she'll  hear  you  ! 

BILL  (outside,  a  few  degrees  huskier}.  Well,  she's  got  to 
learn  

KATE  (outside).     Sh-sh-sh  !     She'll  hear  you  ! 

BILL  (outside).     Oh,  rot  1      Where  is  she  ? 

KATE  (outside).     Pa  !     Give  me  th'e  beer  ! 

(As  ANNE  listens  to  this  rather  undignified  colloquy  there  is 
a  stiffness  and  primness  in  her  attitude  which  she  would 
probably  deplore  if  she  realized  it.) 


AMERICA    PASSES    BY  9 

Enter  BILL.  He  is  a  young  man  of  abundant  energy  and  en 
thusiasm,  just  now  a  bit  flushed  from  his  argument  with 
KATE,  and  inclined  to  bluster  to  hide  his  discomfort. 

BILL  (seeing  ANNE).     Well,  here  we  are  at  last !     Isn't  this 
a  little  nest?     {Goes  to  her  and  starts  to  kiss  her.) 
ANNE  {stopping  him}.     Oh,  should  you  ? — well. 

(She  holds  up  her  lips  ;  he  kisses  her.} 

BILL  (loudly).  Come  in,  Pa  !  (GEORGE  enters.  Very  much 
the  young  husband,  breezy  with  the  first  flush  of  happy  married 
life ;  young  and  comfortably  prosperous.  As  GEO.  enters.) 
Here  we  are  !  This  is  George,  Anne.  Not  very  pretty,  but 
sweet  and  clean. 

ANNE  (smiling  and  shaking  hands).  How  do  you  do  ?  So 
this  is  George. 

GEO.  "  George,"  that's  right.  And  we  call  you  "Anne," 
Ma  and  I,  in. the  bosom  of  the  family,  so  to  speak.  Mustn't 
mind  if  we  slip. 

KATE  (returning).  Now,  Pa,  stop  trying  to  be  polite.  I've 
told  her  we  haven't  any  manners. 

BILL  (softly  to  KATE).     What  did  you  do  with  it? 

GEO.   (to  ANNE).     I'm  glad  she  warned  you 

KATE  (firmly).     I  threw  it  in  the  sink. 

BILL.      What? 

GEO.  (ivheeling).     Threw  it ! 

(There  is  a  sudden  silence  as  BILL,  GEO.  ##</KATE  become 
conscious  of  ANNE.) 

BILL  (to  relieve  the  impending  strain).  Hm,  hm.  Well, 
well.  Here  we  are;  the  four  of  us.  And  you  two  actually 
married — the  world  moves  ! 

GEO.  (his  arm  about  KATE).  Ma,  don't  you  just  want  to 
sit  and  look  at  him  ?  Home  again  ! 

BILL.     And  that's  the  greatest  feeling  in  the  world. 

KATE.  And  don't  you  think  for  a  minute  you're  ever  going 
to  run  away  and  be  a  missionary  ! 

GEO.  (shouting).      What !     Who  ? 

BILL.     Good  lord,  Kate  !     Can't  you  take  a  joke? 

GEO.  Bill  a  missionary  !  And  he  just  told  a  bartender  we 
weren't  buying  foam,  but  beer  ! 

KATE.     George  !     (She  gives    GEO.  a   terrible  look.      The 


IO  AMERICA    PASSES    BY 

three  of  them  look  at  ANNE,  realizing  that  they  have  been  ig 
noring  her  completely.  ANNE  sits  staring  into  the  fireplace, 
KATE,  going  to  her  :  gushingly).  My  dear,  won't  you  come 
out  in  the  kitchen  with  me  ?  The  dinner's  all  ready  to  go  on 
the  range.  I  want  you  to  see  what  a  wonderful  housekeeper 
1  am. 

ANNE  (rising).     Yes.     Let  me  help.     I — I  want  to  learn. 

(They  go  arm  in  arm  :  GEO.  a//^/BiLL  stand  looking  after 
them?) 

BILL.     What  d'you  think  of  her,  George? 

GEO.     Anne?     She's  a  marvel. 

BILL  (enthusiastically).  Isn't  she?  You — er — you  really 
think  so? 

GEO.  She's  a  wonder.  (Gees  to  smoking-set.)  Come  on. 
Have  a  weed. 

BILL,     i — I  sort  of  cut  them  out,  George. 

GEO.  (///  dismay}.     No  ! 

BILL  {joining  GEO.).  She — rather  wanted  me  to.  What 
are  they  ? 

GEO.     Fatima,  of  loving  memory. 

(Puts  one  in  BILL'S  mouth.') 

BILL.  Home  again.  (Lights  the  cigarette,  as  GEO. 
holds  a  match  for  him.'}  I  used  to  crawl  around  through  a 
temple  yard  next  door  over  there  begging  the  damn  little  idols 
for  one.  (He  stretches  out  in  a  chair.} 

GEO.  I'll  bet.  Now  what  about  Kate  ?  Has  she  grown 
up  into  a  regular  little  person  ? 

BILL  (slowly).  "  A  regular  little  person."  I  like  that.  I 
suppose  that's  up-to-novv  American. 

GEO.     I'm  asking  you  about  the  Missus. 

BILL.  She's  a  regular  little  person.  American,  George,  all 
through.  Gee  !  You  don't  know  what  that  means. 

GEO.  Don't  I?  I'm  the  most  married  man  you  ever  saw. 
And  we've  got  the  flat  picked  out  for  you  and  Anne.  Just 
across  the  street. 

BILL.  Look  here,  you  know.  I  want  you  to  be  frank  about 
it.  You  honestly  think  Anne  is — well,  what  you  expected? 

GEO.     Why,  yes,  she's  a  baby,  Bill.     Of  course 

(He  stops  uncertainly, .) 


AMERICA    PASSES    BY  II 

BILL  (turning  to  him).  Of  course  what,  George?  Don't 
be -afraid. 

GEO.  We-ell — a  wee  bit  religious,  I  suppose.  But  we'll 
make  her  one  of  the  family  if  we  have  to  go  to  church. 

{Reassuringly  he  bangs  BILL  on  the  shoulder.} 

BILL.  That's  fine  of  you,  George.  I — I — you  know  I  was 
simply  a  fool  about  her — in  Tokyo. 

GEO.  {quickly).     You  mean  you're  not  now  ? 

BILL.      Well,  that's  it.     Am  1  ? 

GEO.     Hm.     If  you  were  to  ask  me 

BILL.  Shut  up,  George.  I — I  suppose  it's  the  shock  of 
getting  back.  I  feel  as  though  I'd  been  away  from  civilization 
for  centuries. 

GEO.     Do  you  think  she's  changed  ? 

BILL.  Not  a  bit  of  it.  She's  pure  gold — but  somehow  or 
other  the  charm  of  it's  gone. 

GEO.     Well,  she's  crazy  about  you,  I  can  see  that. 

BILL.     Can  you  ?     Hm,  that  makes  me  happy  as  the'  devil. 

{He  walks  restlessly  to  the  window.} 

GEO.  Of  course  a  man  has  to  be  careful.  Can't  be  too 
careful. 

BILL.     Did  you  ever  have — doubts  ? 

GEO.  Ye-es,  but  I  got  over  them.  Don't  know  just 
how 

BILL.     With  Kate  it  would  be  different. 

GEO.  {with  sudden  decision).  I'm  going  to  tell  you  some 
thing,  old  wagon  ;  I  wouldn't  butt  in  on  a  bet;  and  if  Anne's 
the  girl  for  you,  she's  the  girl  for  the  four  of  us 

BILL  (turning  back  to  him).  Go  it.  Talk  straight  from  the 
shoulder. 

GEO.  Take  it  for  what  it's  worth.  The  Company  marooned 
me  for  eight  months  in  a  little  county  seat  in  Iowa.  Two 
trains  passed  through  the  town  every  day — except  Sunday — 
that's  all  that  ever  happened  there.  And  lonesome,  Lord 

BILL.  I  know.  I  went  for  three  weeks  once  without  seeing 
a  white  man. 

GEO.  Think  of  eight  months  in  darkest  Iowa.  Then  along 
came  Mary.  Mary  was  the  general  storekeeper's  daughter, 
fair,  frank  and  freckled.  I'd  been  starving  for  a  little  small 


12  AMERICA    PASSES    BY 

talk  for  six  months.  You  know  how  I  took  to  Mary.  She 
wasn't  a  beauty,  of  course.  But  she  looked  to  me  like  the 
queen  of  the  movies. 

BILL  (with  relish).     "The  Queen  of  the  Movies"  ! 

GEO.  Two  weeks  of  Mary,  and  I  wrote  up  to  Kate — we 
were  engaged  at  the  time — and  tried  to  start  an  argument. 

BILL.  "Start  an  argument  "  !  (In  delight,  mostly  to  him- 
self.) 

GEO.  But  Katie,  thank  the  good  Lord,  was  wise,  and  too 
proud  to  fight.  Then  I  came  back  to  Chicago ;  and  some  time 
later  Mary  and  her  dear  mother  paid  a  visit  to  the  city.  Bill 
(shaking  his  head  sadly),  when  I  saw  Mary  in  the  reception 
room  of  the  club  it  knocked  me  out. 

BILL.     I  know  the  feeling. 

GEO.  Something  about  the  incongruity  of  it — she  was  here 
three  days  and  I  lost  five  pounds  a  day.  And  when  she  went 
home  I  simply  ruined  a  typewriter  ribbon  trying  to  tell  Kate  I 
wanted  to  get  married. 

BILL  (thoughtfully).  I  see.  I  hadn't  seen  a  real  American 
girl  for  three  years.  Anne  came  along 

GEO.     This  environment  thing  is  a  peculiar  machine. 

BILL.  Our  love-story  was  perfect — simply  perfect  in  Japan. 
But  it  doesn't  seem  to  go  in  Chicago — for  me. 

GEO.  Watch  it,  Bill,  watch  your  step.  Just  let  America 
pass  by.  That's  what  I  did  with  Chicago  and  Mary.  It 
cured  me. 

BILL.  That's  it :  let  America  pass  by !  For  this  getting 
back  to  civilization  has  been  a  tremendous  shock.  Oh,  it's 
been  glorious  !  America  !  America !  Why,  it  just  rose  up 
and  slammed  me  on  the  shoulder  in  San  Francisco.  And  ever 
since  it's  been  pressing  in,  pressing  in  !  Life,  you  know  ! 
Real  people  !  Nineteen  hundred  and  now  !  And  somehow — 
I  do  hate  to  say  it — Anne  isn't  a  part  of  America.  America  is 
pressing  in,  and  it  seems  that,  in  spite  of  everything,  it's  press 
ing  her  out. 

GEO.  If  the  little  romance  doesn't  bear  transplanting,  old 
man,  let  'er  wither. 

BILL.  But  that  month  in  Tokyo  is  like  a  dream.  (Very 
thoughtfully.')  I  shudder  to  think  of  spoiling  that  for  her — or 
for  myself. 

KATE  (appearing  in  the  doorway  and  staring  at  BILL). 
What  on  earth's  he  doing,  Pa  ?  Praying  ? 

BILL  (turning guiltily).     Where's  Anne? 


AMERICA    PASSES    BY  13 

KATE.  In  the  kitchen.  She  makes  me  ashamed  of  myself. 
She  knows  twice  as  much  as  I  do. 

BILL.     About — cooking  ? 

GEO.  (removing  the  fluffy  white  apron  which  KATE  has  over 
her  gown).  Wait  till  you're  married,  Bill  :  you'll  realize  how 
important  that  is 

KATE  (faking  the  apron  from  him,  wheeling  him  about  and 
fastening  it  around  his  waist  ).  I  think  she's  lovely,  Bill. 

GEO.  (as  he  submits  to  having  the  apron  fastened  on  hint). 
You  see,  Bill,  what  it  brings  us  to :  hook-worms  and  kitchen 
mechanics. 

KATE  (as  she  finishes  tying  the  apron  on  him).  Poor  old 
Pa,  poor  old  Pa  !  (Rises  to  her  tiptoes  and  kisses  him  on  the 
back  of  the  head.)  There.  Go  out  and  show  Anne  how  well 
I've  trained  you. 

(GEO.  goes  out.) 

BILL  (when  GEO.  is  gone).     So  you  like  Anne? 

KATE.     Oh,  she's  a  dear. 

BILL.     Honest  ? 

KATE  (surprised).     Why,  yes.     I  love  her,  or  shall. 

BILL  (suddenly pointing).     Are  those  shoes  the  latest? 

KATE  (pressing  back  her  skirts  and  putting  her  feet  together). 
Yes,  sir.  Do  you  like  them  ? 

BILL.     1  love  them  ! 

KATE  (still  stooping :  looking  up  at  hini).     Love  them? 
'    BILL.     Love  'em  !     You  don't  know  what  those  shoes  are  to 
me.     Something  I've  been  hungering  for  for  three  years. 

KATE  (laughing).  And  they  only  cost  four-thirty-six.  I 
got  them  at  a  sale.  Now  tell  me  about  yourself. 

BILL.  And  I'm  crazy  about  that  dress.  There's  something 
ultra-American  about  it. 

KATE.     This?     Bill !     It's  a  year  old  ! 

BILL.     Never.     It's  the  newest  thing  in  the  world. 

KATE.     Dear  me  !     Goon.     What  do  you  think  of  my  hair? 

(She  looks  at  him  brightly,  and  gives  her  head  a  little  flirt. ) 

BILL  (rising  in  his  enthusiasm).  Splendid  !  Knte,  some 
time  1  want  you  to  do  that  again  for  me — some  time  when  I'm. 
not  expecting  it. 

KATE  (at  a  loss).     What  ? 

BILL.  Turn  your  head,  just  that  way  !  I'd  forgotten,  plumb 
forgotten  that  women  did  it  ! 


14  AMERICA    PASSES    BY 

KATE  (laughing  uncertainly).     Silly.     Tell  me  about  Japan. 

(KATE  arranges  herself  on  the  davenport  prepared  to  believe 
anything. ) 

BILL  (all  life  gone  out  of  his  manner).  It's  a  beautiful 
country. 

KATE.     How  specific  !     Do  they  dance  there  ? 

BILL.  No — not  as  we  do.  (Warms  up  again.)  The  men 
and  women  don't  dance  together.  They  don't  twist  themselves 
into  outlandish  postures,  and  make  glorious  fools  of  themselves, 
and  get  their  heads  ringing  with  the  jolliest,  craziest,  liveliest 
tunes  in  the  world — and — (stopping  out  of  breath)  as  we  do. 
God  bless  us  ! 

KATE.  My  !  Then  you  haven't  been  to  a  dance  for  three 
years ! 

BILL.     It  seems  about  three  hundred. 

KATE  (clasping  her  hands') .  Then,  Bill !  You  don't  know 
a  single  one  of  the  new  dances  ! 

BILL.     No.     Are  there  some  ? 

KATE  (shrieking).  You  poor  old  foreigner  !  Here — (seiz 
ing  him)  do  let  me  show  you  ! 

(She  starts  a  "  syncopated  walk"} 

BILL.     W-wait !     What's  the  general  idea  ?     I  can  two-step  ! 
KATE.     Sh-sh  !     The   flat's   small.     Some   one  might  hear 
you.     Now  watcher  step. 

(She  leaves  him  and  executes  a  graceful  little  fox-trot,  sway 
ing,  and  "  hesitating, ' '  and  gliding  ;  whirls  around  lightly, 
smiling  at  him.) 

BILL  (with  a  sigh,  as  he  watches').     America  passes  by  ! 

KATE  (bowing).  There  you  are.  Mrs.  Castle,  n'est-ce 
pas? 

BILL.     Mrs.  Who? 

KATE.  Castle,  Bill !  You  don't  know  about  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Vernon  ? 

BILL.     I  admit  it.     Should  I  know  them  ? 

KATE.  No  hope.  And  you  don't  know  a  single  Ford 
story  ? 

BILL.     Sewell  Ford  ?     Wrote  about  Shorty  McCabe  ? 

KATE.     Lovely,  Bill,  how  lovely  !     A  Ford  is  what  you  get 


AMERICA    PASSES    BY  15 

when  you  can't  afford  an  automobile.  There  are  people  who 
can't  even  get  a  Ford.  Pa  and  I  are  some. 

BILL.     Oh — the  name  of  a  car. 

KATE.  And  every  one  should  have  a  Ford  story.  But 
they're  all  old  now.  Mine  was  the  one  about  the  man  who 
drove  his  Ford  up  a  hill,  and  let  one  of  his  feet  hang  outside. 

BILL.     Go  on.     It's  new  to  me. 

KATE.  Fancy  that !  Well,  everybody  thought  it  was  a 
roller  skate. 

BILL.     What? 

KATE.     The  Ford 7 

BILL.     Oh,  I  see  !     Ha,  ha  !     Because  it  was  so  small,  eh? 

KATE.     Yes,  Bill,  because  it  was  so  small.    That's  right 

(Above  the  sound  of  a  ragtime  piano  is  heard.} 

BILL  (t-aising  his  eyes  to  the  ceiling).  Just  a  minute ! 
Is ?  That's  ragtime  ! 

KATE.     The  joys  of  living  in  a  flat. 

BILL  (dropping  on  the  arm  of  the  davenport,  and  gazing 
raplly  at  the  ceiling).  Ragtime  ! 

KATE  (whispering  very  confidentially).  It's  the  little  girl 
up- stairs  ;  she  can  do  it  for  hours  ! 

BILL  (raising  his  hands  in  ecstasy).  Kate,  it's  more  Amer 
ican  than  a  bright  new  copper  penny  ! 

KATE  (seeing  that  he  likes  it  she  proceeds  to  interpret  Amer 
ican  ragtime  for  him  :  watching  him,  and  moving  her  hands, 
shoulders  anii  head  with  the  melody}.  "  Come  along  with  me 
— we'll  have  a  jubilee — in  my  old  Kentucky  ho-ome  !  "  (The 
tune  up-stairs  changes.}  R-r-run  me  up — and  down  the  keeees 
— ta-ta-tumtum — my  harmoneeees — ta-ta-tumtumtum — are  sure 
to  pkeeees 

BILL.     Sounds  like  "  Silver  Threads." 

KATE  (chanting  the  words  into  the  tune).  Yes — it — is  syn 
copated  Silver  Threads (Breathlessly  she  drops  into  a 

chair.}  Everything  is  syncopated  now  !  Hum. 

(Again  the  tune  changes.} 

BILL.     What's  that  one  ? 

KATE.  "  Aw-merica — I  lo-ove  you — and  there's  a  hun-dred 
milyun  oth-ers  like  me!"  Bang!  What  do  you  think  of 
that  ? 

BILL.  It's  awful :  perfectly  awful.  But  I  love  it !  A  "  hun 
dred  million  others  like  me" — that's  the  way  1  feel  about  get- 


l6  AMERICA    PASSES    BY 

ting  back.  Just  like  that.  Back  among  my  own  people — 
where  there's  a  hundred  million  others  like  me.  That's  a  great 
feeling  after  three  years  in  the  wilderness  ! 

KATE  (bromidically}.  Still,  I'd  like  to  travel.  I  think  it's 
so  broadening. 

BILL  (brought  to  earth  with  a  thud}.  The  deuce  you 
would  ! 

KATE.  I  think  one  learns  more  from  a  year's  travel  than 
from  a  college  education. 

BILL  (in  joy).  Old  bromides  !  Old  bromides,  new  slang — 
I  don't  know  which  I  like  the  best ! 

KATE  (suddenly  sniffing).     Georgie  ! 

GEO.  (from  the  kitchen}.     Yes,  m'dear? 

KATE.     Turn  the  meat ! 

GEO.  (from  the  kitchen}.  Yes,  m'dear.  Which  way  shall 
I  turn  it  ? 

KATE  (springing  up  and  dashing  out).  Oh  !  Can't  you 
smell  it  ? 

GEO.  (from  the  kitchen}.  Ye-as,  m'dear.  (When  she  is 
gone  BILL  rises  and  heaves  a  sigh  of  happiness.  The  music 
has  begun  again  up-stairs.  BILL  hums  :  "  Where  there's  a 
hundred  million  others  like  me."  He  moves  to  the  window  and 
holds  aside  the  curtain,  looking  out  with  a  whimsical  smile. 
"America  I  love  you  .  .  .  a  hundred  million  others  like 
me  /") 

(ANNE  has  entered.  Silently  she  watches  his  devotions,  as 
she  removes  her  apron  and  wipes  her  hands  on  it.  She 
sits  on  the  davenport,  and  waits  for  him  to  finish.} 

ANNE  (over  her  shoulder).  They  told  me  to  come  in,  Ben 
jamin  ;  they  said  it  would  be  our  last  chance  to  be  alone. 

BILL  (starting  and  turning}.  Oh,  Anne  !  I  didn't  hear 
you  come  in. 

(He  looks  at  her  as  though  he  had  forgotten  her  existence.} 

ANNE.     They  assumed  that  we  would  want  to  be  together. 

BILL  (taking  a  step  toward  her}.     Well — don't  we? 

ANNE  (smiling  and  holding  out  her  hands  to  him}.  Why, 
of  course.  (BiLL  sits  beside  her  on  the  davenport  holding  her 
hands.}  So  this  is  George  and  Kate. 

BILL.     Aren't  they  the  best  fellows  in  the  world  !     Properly, 


AMERICA    PASSES    BY  IJ 

I  suppose  I  should  call  them  "real  and  regular."  Don't  you 
like  that? 

ANNE.     Like  what,  Benjamin  ? 

BILL.  "Real  and  regular":  just  the  phrase.  It's  Amer 
ican,  fresh  from  the  mint. 

ANNE.     Hm.     I'm  afraid  I  don't  see  quite  what  it  means. 

BILL.     Well,  don't  you  think  Pa  and  Ma  are  great? 

ANNE.     Yes,  they're  jolly — and  your  friends. 

BILL  (cooled  somewhat).  You  know — they  mean  a  lot  to 
me. 

ANNE.     Yes.     I  can  see  they  do. 

BILL  (rising  uncomfortably).  I  don't  know  quite  what  you 
mean.  I — I'm  afraid  you  don't  understand  how  well  I  like 
them. 

ANNE.     It  all  seems  so  very  different. 

BILL.     What's  different? 

ANNE.  Everything.  I  didn't  think  their  flat  would  be  like 
this  in  Tokyo. 

BILL.     To  me  their  flat's  a  bit  of  Heaven. 

ANNE  (looking  tip  at  hini).  Is  this  what  we  want  to  do 
with  our  lives  ? 

BILL  (studying  her  curiously).     You  mean — it  isn't  ? 

ANNE.  When  we  spend  evenings  like  this  are  we  making 
any  one  happier?  Is  this  the  life  of  service  we  planned  in 
Tokyo  ? 

BILL.     Oh  !     Anne,  that's  ridiculous. 

ANNE.     You  didn't  think  it  was  ridiculous  in  Tokyo. 

BILL.  Didn't  I  ?  Well  .  .  .  isn't  that  peculiar  ?  It's 
true  :  I  didn't. 

ANNE.  Oh!  What  has  made  such  a  change  in  you? 
You're  not  as  you  were  in  Tokyo.  I  can't  believe  you're  the 
same  person  at  all  ! 

BILL  (unhappily).     I  know,  Anne.     You  have  felt  it  then. 

ANNE.     Felt  it !     No,  I  haven't !     I've  fought  it  away. 

BILL.  But  I  know  what  you  mean.  You  seem  like  a 
stranger  to  me. 

ANNE  (very  bitterly  and  helplessly).  What  has  made  the 
difference?  You  are  you,  and  I  am  I  !  What  has  happened 
to  us? 

BILL.     I  think  perhaps  it's     .     .     .     America. 

ANNE.  America  !  Where  we  thought  we'd  be  so  happy. 
Oh,  il's  all  so  boisterous  and  harsh.  It's  hateful.  Chicago  is 
hideous ! 


l8  AMERICA    PASSES    BY 

BILL.  I'm  afraid  there's  just  the  trouble,  Anne.  To  me 
Chicago  is  glorious. 

ANNE.     How  can  you  say  that?     It's  selfish,  brutal 

BILL  (insisting  quietly}.     No,  I  love  Chicago. 

ANNE.  After  the  simplicity  and  beauty  of  Japan.  We  were 
so  close  to  life  there  ! 

BILL.  Close  to  life.  It  wasn't  life  at  all.  It's  here  vve'ie 
in  life.  I  love  the  smell  of  the  asphalt.  I  love  the  gloom  and 
dusk  that  lurks  under  the  trestles  of  the  elevated.  A  traffic 
cop  is  a  masterpiece  ! 

ANNE.     Don't  talk  so  ! 

BILL.  I  even  like  the  posters  on  the  streets,  with  their  stiff 
green  lines  and  horribly  skinny  men.  It's  a  profound  expe 
rience  for  me  to  walk  down  Michigan  Avenue:  pearl  gray 
shoes,  blue  silk,  white  fur,  derby  hats,  the  English  language, 
horn  spectacles,  cigars,  mustaches,  shop-windows,  sky-signs — 
oh  !  America  ! 

ANNE  (laughing  a  little).  Of — of  course  you're  glad  to  be 
home  again 

BILL.     Home  again  !     Alive  again  ! 

ANNE.  But  those  things  are  all  foreign  to  me,  Benjamin ; 
foreign,  foreign. 

BILL  (touched  and  going  to  her).  Anne — don't  mind  me. 
I  can't  help  it.  I  love  them  all ! 

ANNE  (miserably).     Those  trivial,  silly  things 

BILL.  Those  are  just  the  sparkles  on  the  surface.  These 
stunning,  ultra,  elaborately  simple  creations  are  just  port  of  our 
blessed  struggle  for  the  next  thing,  new  discoveries,  new 
effects,  new  beauties  from  life.  That  striving,  that  joyous, 
mad  scramble  for  new  things,  bright  new  things,  somehow  is 
America.  It  all  stirs  something  in  me  to  the  sizzling  point ! 

ANNE.  And  it  all  distresses  me,  and  hurts  me  and  confuses 
me  ! 

BILL.  Anne,  I'm  mad  to  get  into  the  big  procession  :  just  a 
tiny  niche  in  one  of  those  skyscrapers — with  typewriters  click 
ing  all  about  me — that's  all  I  want  if  I  can  feel  I'm  a  part  of 
it  all. 

ANNE  (desperately).  And  don't  you  know  I  can  never  be  a 
part  of  it — it  is  stylish  and  modern,  and  I  am  not 

BILL.  Stylish  and  modern — and  young.  The  Youth  of  All 
the  World  !  That's  why  I  love  it  ! 

ANNE.  And  in  Japan  we  said  we  wanted  things  that  are 
simple  and  clean. 


AMERICA    PASSES    BY  IQ 

BILL.  I'd  forgotten  what  a  great  old  century  we're  living 
in.  The  music  of  passing  motor  cars  !  Why,  when  I  got  into 
that  Northwestern  Station  and  looked  up  at  those  stretches  of 
marble,  and  heard  a  roar  about  "The  next  train — for  Evans- 
ton  !  "  and  saw  a  news-stand  glittering  with  the  colors  of  new 
magazines,  and  heard  the  newsboys  croaking,  "  Wuxtree,  Tenth 
Edition!  "  I  wanted  to  throw  my  hat  on  the  floor  and  jump 
on  it. 

ANNE.  Yes.  I've  felt  it  coming.  It's  all  worse  than  the 
heathen  things  the  Japanese  do.  At  least  they  have  a  God  ! 

BILL.  Yes,  it's  true.  This  plunge  into  the  living  has  done 
something  to  us.  Mrs.  Vernon  Castle  !  Fifty  thousand  people 
at  a  football  game.  It's  all  America  ! 

ANNE  (sitting  on  the  davenport ;  looking  away  from  him  ; 
with  a  change  of  voice}.  Benjamin,  do  you  think  you  love 
me — still? 

BILL  (his  jaw  dropping).  Why — of  course  I  do.  Anne, 
how  could  you  ask  such  a  question  ! 

ANNE.     It  wasn't  easy — or  politic,  I  suppose. 

BILL.  But  don't — I  mean  let's  not — this  has  nothing  to  do 
with  our — our  love — (with  an  effort}  dear. 

ANNE.  Oh  !  If  I  could  think  so  !  But  for  instance,  Ben 
jamin  

BILL  (as  though  he  had  endured  it  too  long).  I  wish  you 
wouldn't  call  me  that. 

ANNE.     What? 

BILL.  What  you  just  called  me:  Benjamin.  Nobody  ever 
does  except  to  jolly  me.  I  wish  you'd  call  me  Bill. 

ANNE.  Well  .  .  .  Bill  ...  do  you  think  I  could  ever 
wear  my  hair  as  Kate  does  ?  Or  wear  shoes  like  hers  ?  And 
stockings  that  really  seem  vulgar  to  me? 

BILL.     Good  Lord  !     Why  not? 

ANNE.  Some  girls  can  dress — well,  stylishly — others  can't. 
It's  not  a  mere  matter  of  putting  on  the  clothes.  I  couldn't  do 
it,  ever.  Even  if  I — I  loved  you.  I  couldn't. 

BILL  (after  a  slight  pause}.     Of — course,  that's  a  little  thing. 

ANNE  (on  the  point  of  giving  way  to  her  emotion  at  last}. 
No  !  1  think  it's  a  big  thing — enormous,  and  strange — and 
pitiless  !  (Her  voice  breaks  ;  she  buries  her  face  in  her  arms.) 

BILL  (surprised ;  coming  to  her  kindly).      Why,  Anne  ! 

ANNE  (bitterly).  Don't  feel  sorry  for  me  !  I  really  couldn't 
stand  that ! 

BILL    (standing  awkwardly   behind  her).     We — we   can't 


2O  AMERICA    PASSES    BY 

quite  understand  it.  I — I  know  you're  right,  Anne.  I  think 
perhaps 

ANNE.  It  would  be  better  if  I  said  it,  don't  you  think  ? 
You're  trying  to  be  a  gentleman — and  that's  good  of  you. 

BILL  (helplessly}.  Let's  be  careful.  Why,  here  we  are  in 
George's  flat.  We  mustn't  spoil  it.  We've  dreamed  of  it  so 
often — and  here's  our  dream  come  true  ! 

ANNE.  I  was  going  to  say  that  in  Japan  you  thought  I  was — 
well — beautiful. 

BILL  (dutifully  ;  but  without  conviction}.  I — I  think  so — 
still. 

ANNE  {with  a  little  laugh).  I  think  that  ends  our  engage 
ment !  (With  a  start  she  faces  him,  and  for  a  moment  they 
stand  looking  rather  stupidly  at  each  other.  Turns  away 
from  him.)  And  in  Japan  I  was  Youth  and  America — all 
your  life  lacked  there.  And  you  were  that  to  me :  Youth  and 
what  I  thought  America  was.  You  see  now  that  I  am  not 
American  at  all,  and  not  young  in  your  way.  And  your  youth 
that  I  loved  there  is  different  in  its  own  environment.  It  is 
something  I  cannot  understand — or  love,  Benjamin  .  .  .  Bill. 

BILL.     You're  brave  about  it.     Anne,  that's  like  you. 

ANNE.  I — I  have  wondered  if  the  boy  and  girl  we  were  in 
Japan — for  we  were  so  young  there — aren't  over  in  Tokyo — 
still. 

BILL.  It's  all  very  strange,  Anne.  I'm  afraid  those  two — 
that  is  what  they  were  to  each  other — were  part  of  the  pine 
trees,  and  tea-houses,  and  bamboo  lattices 

ANNE  (breathlessly}.  and  stone  lanes,  and  old  temples, 

and  paper  lanterns,  and  oh !  Yes  !  I  suppose  our — our 

love  is  still  over  there.  I  shouldn't  care  to  bring  it  to  Chicago  ! 

BILL  (earnestly).     Anne!     We  must  try 

ANNE.  We  have  tried.  When  a  dream  fades,  you  can't 
bring  it  back. 

BILL.     Dear,  you  don't  mean  we 

ANNE  (looking  at  him,  fully  realizing  the  irony  of  her 
words).  Bill — I  shan't  let  you  marry  me. 

BILL.  Strange.  If  you'd  said  that  two  months  ago,  I'd 
have  committed  hara-kiri. 

ANNE.     Yes.     But  that  was  in  Japan. 

KATE  (from  the  kitchen).  Honk  !  Honk  !  We're  com 
ing.  Take  separate  chairs. 

ANNE.  Benjamin  !  I  can't  stand  it.  Won't  you  put  your 
arms  around  me — as  if  you  loved  me 


AMERICA    PASSES    BY  21 

BILL  (hastily  sitting  beside  her  and  taking  her  in  his  arms*). 
It's  a  beastly  shame,  Anne. 

ANNE.  It's  just  my  little  pride.  All  the  things  I  told  Kate 
about  you,  and  our  love.  Try  to  make  them  think  we  love 
each  other,  just  during  dinner  and  this  evening.  Please  ! 

(KATE  and  GEO.  appear  in  the  door.) 

KATE.     Oh,   oh,   oh  !     Look  at  these  very  young  people, 
Pa  !     Aren't  they  silly? 
BILL.     Dinner  ready,  Pa  ? 

(ANNE  and  BILL  rise;  BILL  keeps  his  arm  about  ANNE.) 

GEO.     All  ready. 

KATE  (going  to  ANNE  and  BILL,  putting  her  arms  around 
them  both,  squeezing  them  together  and  drawing  them  toward 
the  door}.  Oh  !  You  two  old  spooners  !  We've  been  dream 
ing  of  this  little  dinner  for  ages  and  ages — with  just  us  four  ! 
(Over  her  shoulder  to  GEO.)  Oh,  Pa!  Isn't  it  jolly? 
They're  going  to  sit  in  their  own  places  at  our  table.  Anne 
and  Bill  at  last ! 

GEO.     It's  bully,  old  lady. 


CURTAIN 


New  Plays  for  Female  Characters 

LUCIA'S  LOVER 

A  Farce  in  Three  Acts 

By  Bertha  Currier  Porter 

Eight  females.  Costumes,  modern ;  scenery,  two  interiors.  Plays  an 
hour  and  a  half.  A  bright  and  graceful  piece,  light  in  character,  but  sym 
pathetic  and  amusing.  Six  contrasted  types  of  girls  at  boarding-school  are 
shown  in  a  novel  story.  *  Lots  of  fun,  but  very  refined.  Easy  to  produce 
and  can  be  strongly  recommended. 

Price,  2$  cents 

A  GIRL  IN  A  THOUSAND 

A  Comedy  in  Four  Acts 

By  Evelyn  Gray  Whiting 

Fourteen  females.  Costumes,  modern ;  scenes,  three  interiors  and  an 
exterior.  Plays  a  full  evening.  Very  strong,  and  sympathetic  and  of 
varied  interest.  Irish  comedy ;  strong  "  witch  "  character ;  two  very 
lively  "  kids";  all  the  parts  good.  Effective,  easy  to  produce,  and  can 
be  strongly  recommended  to  young  people  as  thoroughly  wholesome  in 
tone  as  well  as  amusing. 

Price,  2^  cents 

A  VIRGINIA  HEROINE 

A  Comedy  in  Three  Acts 

By  Susie  G.  Me  Clone 

Eleven  female  characters.  Scenery,  easy ;  costumes,  modern.  Plays 
one  hour  and  forty-five  minutes.  Irish  a'nd  negro  comedy  parts,  and  two 
character  parts ;  most  of  the  characters  young.  A  very  easy  and  inter 
esting  play  for  girls,  well  suited  for  school  performance.  Romantic  It 
lerest  with  Jots  of  comedy. 

Price,  2$  cents 

HOW  THE  STORY  GREW 

An  Entertainment  for  Women's  Clubs,  in  One  Act 

By  O.   W.  Gleason 

Eight  female  characters.  Costumes,  modern;  scenery,  unimportant; 
may  be  given  on  a  platform  without  any.  Plays  forty-five  minutes.  A 
veiy  easy  and  amusing  little  piece,  full  of  human  nature  and  hitting  off  a 
well-known  peculiarity  of  almost  any  community.  Written  for  middle- 
aged  won. en,  and  a  sure  hit  with  the  audience. 
Price,  IJ  cents 

Sent,  post-paid,  on  receipt  of  price,  by 

BAKER,  5    Hamilton   Place,    Boston,  Mass, 


New  Plays 


PLAIN  PEOPLE 

A  Comedy  Drama  in  Four  Acts 

By  Dana  J.  Stevens 

Five  males,  five  females.  Costumes,  modern ;  scenery,  two  interiors. 
Plays  a  full  evening.  A  strong  and  human  piece  full  of  humorous  char 
acter  drawing  and  sympathetic  interest.  The  <jast  is  very  even  in  oppor 
tunity,  and  all  the  parts  are  good.  A  great  play  for  a  good  club,  and  a 
sure  winner.  Strongly  recommended.  Free  for  amateur  performance. 
Price,  25  cents 

CHARACTERS 
EZRA  BROMLEY,  storekeeper. 
ALMIRA  BROMLEY,  housewife. 
MARTIN  JASPER  BROMLEY,  college  man. 
LIZA  Liz  HANKINS,  brat. 
JUDGE  JOTHAM  MARLEY,  Christian. 
MELISSY  WATKINS,  elderly  maiden. 
JONAS  J ARROCK,  farmer. 
BELINDY  JARROCK,  seamstress. 
HIRAM  CURTIS  PECK,  seller. 
APRIL  BLOSSOM,  help. 

SYNOPSIS 

ACT  I. — Sitting-room  behind  Ezra  Bromley's  store.     Morning. 

ACT  II. — The  same.     Some  days  later. 

ACT  III. — At  the  Jarrocks'.     Some  weeks  later. 

ACT  IV. — At  the  Bromleys'.      Later  in  the  evening. 

FOOLING  FATHER 

A  Comedy  in  One  Act 

By  R.  M.  Robinson 

Three  males.  Costumes,  modern ;  scene,  an  interior.  Plays  thirty 
minutes.  A  clever  little  play  easily  done  and  very  effective.  The  boys 
arrange  a  little  burglary  just  to  show  the  old  gentleman  what  heroes  they 
are,  but  somehow  things  do  not  turn  out  right  for  the  hero  part.  Can  be 
recommended.  Price,  /j"  cents 

AT  THE  JUNCTION 

A  Farce  in  One  Act 

By  Charles  S.  Bird. 

Three  males,  two  females.  Costumes,  modern;  scene,  an  easy  interior. 
Plays  thirty  minutes.  A  bright  and  vivacious  little  farce  for  two  young 
couples  and  a  comic  station  agent,  very  easy  and  effective.  All  the  parts 
are  first  rate,  and  that  of  the  station  agent  is  a  corker.  Can  be  strongly 
recommended.  Price,  fj  cetiti 


New  Plays 


THE  REBELLION  OF  MRS.  BARCLAY 

A  Comedy  of  Domestic  Life 

In  Two  Acts 
By  May  E.  Countryman 

Three  male,  six  female  characters.  Costumes  modern ;  scenery,  easy 
interiors.  Plays  one  hour  and  three  quarters.  A  clever  and  amusing 
comedy  with  a  very  popular  cast;  all  the  parts  evenly  good.  There  are 
many  Mr.  Barclays  making  their  homes  more  or  less  uncomfortable  all 
over  this  country,  and  Mrs,  Barclay's  method  of  curing  her  particular  one 
will  be  sympathetically  received.  Good  Irish  comedy  parts,  male  and  fe 
male.  Strongly  recommended. 

Price,  25  cents 

\ 

CHARACTERS 

MORTON  BARCLAY.  MRS.  BROWN,  Morton 's  sister. 

ROGER  STUART,  a  neighbor.  CORA,  her  daughter. 

DENNIS  O'  HARA.  ELSIE  STUART,  Roger  s  sister. 

ETHEL  BARCLAY,  Morton  s  wife.  MARY  ANN  O'CONNOR. 
RUTH  CARTER,  Ethel  s  sister. 

PA'S  NEW  HOUSEKEEPER 

A  Farce  in  One  Act 

By  Charles  S.  Bird 

Three  male,  two  female  characters.  Modern  costumes ;  scenery,  a 
simple  interior  or  none  at  all.  Plays  forty  minutes.  A  roaring  farce  of 
the  "Charley's  Aunt"  order,  admirably  suited  for  high-school  perform 
ance.  Jack  Brown,  visiting  his  chum,  is  tempted  by  his  success  in  college 
theatricals  to  make  up  in  the  character  of  the  new  housekeeper,  an  at 
tractive  widow,  who  is  expected  but  does  not  arrive.  He  takes  in  every 
body  and  mixes  things  up  generally.  All  the  parts  are  first  rate  and  the 
piece  full  of  laughs  and  action.  Strongly  recommended. 
Price,  15  cents 

A  PRODIGAL  SON 

A  Comedy  in  One  Act 
By  Raymond  M.  Robinson 

Two  male^  three    female  characters.     Costumes  modern ;  scenery,  an 
easy  interior.     Plays  half  an  hour.     A  very  original  and  amusing  bit  of 
fooling,  easy  to  do  and  sure  to  please.     The  leading  character  is  a  tramp 
and  full  of  opportunity.     Well  recommended. 
Price,  7,5  cents 


New  Farces 

THE  ELOPEMENT  OF  ELLEN 
A  Farce  Comedy  in  Three  Acts 

By  Marie  J.  Warren 

Four  males,  three  females.   Costumes  modern  ;  scenery,  one  interior  an6 
3ne  exterior.     Plays  an  hour  and  a  half.     A  bright  and  ingenious  little 
play,  admirably  suited  for  amateur  acting.     Written  for  and  originally 
produced  by  Wellesley  College  girls.     Strongly  recommended. 
Price,  23  cents 

TOMMY'S     WIFE 

A  Farce  in  Three  Acts 

By  Marie  J.   Warren 

Three  males,  five  females.     Costumes  modern ;  scenery,  two  interiors. 
Plays  an  hour  and  a  half.     Originally  produced  by  students  of  Wellesley 
College.     A  very  original  and  entertaining  play,  distinguished  by  abun 
dant  humor.    An  unusually  clever  piece,  strongly  recommended. 
Price,  25  cents 

ALL    CHARLEY'S     FAULT 

An  Original  Farce  in  Two  Acts 

By  Anthony  E.  Wilh 

Six  males,  three  females.  Scenery,  an  easy  interior ;  -costumes  modern. 
Plays  two  hours.  A  very  lively  and  laughable  piece,  full  of  action  and 
admirably  adapted  for  amateur  performance.  Dutch  and  Negro  comedy 
characters.  Plays  very  rapidly  with  lots  of  incident  and  not  a  dull  mo 
ment  Free  for  amateurs,  but  professional  stage  rights  are  reserved  by 
the  author.  Strongly  recommended. 

Price,  *3  cents 

OUT    OF    TOWN 

A  Comedy  in  Three  Acts 

By  Bell  Elliot  Palmer 

Three  males,  five  females.  Scene,  an  interior,  the  same  for  all  three 
acts ;  costumes  modern.  Plays  an  hour  and  a  half.  A  clever  and  inter 
esting  comedy,  very  easy  to  produce  and  recommended  for  amateur  per- 
formance.  Tone  high  and  atmosphere  refined.  All  the  parts  good.  A 
safe  piece  for  a  fastidious  audience,  as  its  theme  and  treatment  are  alike 
»-eproaca. 

$  tentf 


New  Plays 


THE  GOVERNMENT  DETECTIVE 

A  Play  in  Four  Acts 
By  Bernard  Francis  Moore 

Author  of  "Belle  the  Typewriter  Girl,"  "Brother  Against 
Brother,"  "The  Moonshiner  s  Daughter,"  etc. 

Eight  males,  four  females.     Costumes,  modern  ;  scenery,  four  interiors' 

Plays  two  hours.     A   highly   spiced  melodrama  suitable  for  performance 

by  young  folks  or   by  their  elders  who  like  plenty  of  excitement.     Easy 

and  thrilling,  like  all  the  plays  by  this  author. 

Price,  2$  cents 

CHARACTERS 

CAPTAIN  WILBUR  FOSTER,  a  government  detective  ;  under  the  as' 

sumed  name  of  Paul  Gray,  a  retired  banker. 
JOHN  ARNOLD,  the  captain  of  a  secret  band  of  criminals. 
MARTIN  JACKSON,  a  wealthy  young  man. 
ALEXANDER  ADAMS,  warden  of  the  Jefferson  Prison. 
NICK  MORTON,  Foster  s  assistant. 
JAMES  ARMSTRONG,  a  retired  capitalist. 
EDWIN  RAY,  his  nephew. 
PETER,  a  clerk  at  the  prison. 

MRS.  LAURA  MARSTON,  a  young -widow  and  John  s  sister. 
CLARA  ARMSTRONG,  James'  daughter  and  heiress. 
EFKIE  JACKSON,  Martin  s  sister. 
MARY,  a  servant. 

A  PECK  OF  TROUBLE 

A  Comedy  in  One  Act 
By  Alice  C.  Thompson 

Five  females.  Costumes,  modern  ;  scene,  an  interior.  Plays  twenty 
minutes.  A  capital  little  play  for  young  girls  in  or  out  of  school;  clean, 
bright  and  easy  to  get  up. 

Price,  15  cents 

MUCH  TOO  SUDDEN 

A  Comedy  in  One  Act 
By  Alice  C.  Thompson 

Seven  females.  Costumes,  modern ;  scene,  an  interior.  Plays  thirty 
minutes.  Mrs.  Alston  is  a  fond  mother  who  cannot  see  that  her  daughters 
have  grown  up  until  they  and  all  the  rest  of  the  world  are  aware  of  it. 
Her  awakening  is  very  funny.  Clean  and  bright.  Recommended  for 
schools. 

Price,  15  cents 


New  Plays 


COUNTRY  FOLKS 

A  Comedy-Drama  in  Three  Acts 

By  Anthony  E.  Wills 
Author  of  "Our  Wives,"  "A  Regiment  of  Two" 

"  Liberty  Corners"  etc. 

Six  males,  five  females.  Costumes,  modern ;  scenery,  one  interior. 
Plays  two  and  a  quarter  hours.  An  effective  and  up-to-date  play  of 
American  country  life  well  suited  for  amateur  performance.  All  the  parts 
good  and  fairly  even  in  point  of  opportunity ;  the  ladies'  parts  especially 
io.  Easy  «J  stage,  and  well  suited  for  school  performance.  Well  recom- 
tn«iiue<l.  Price,  25  cents 

CHARACTERS 
JOSIAH  DEAN,  an  old  farmer. 
MARTHA  DEAN,  his  wife. 
NATHANIEL  DEAN,  1    .,   .     ,.,, 
POLLY  DEAN,  j  thetr  children. 

LORNA  LANE,  a  seamstress. 
OZIAS  SCHUYLER,  the  postmaster. 
PRUDENCE  SCHUYLER,  his  daughter. 
PETER  PATCH,  the  chore  boy. 
HORATIO  FINCH,  a  country  lawyer. 
ALVINA  BERRY,  a  neighbor. 
JAKE  DIEMER,  the  -village  barber. 

SYNOPSIS 

ACT  I. — Home  of  Josiah  Dean.     Summer. 
ACT  II. — The  same.     One  year  later. 
ACT  III. — The  same.     A  month  later. 

THE  ROSE  AND  THE  RING 

Adapted  from  Thackeray's  Christmas  Pantomime 

By  J.  B.  Greenough 

Sixteen  males,  five  females.    Costumes,  fantastic  ;  scenery,  one  interior, 
two  exteriors,  all   unimportant.     Plays  an  hour  and  three-quarters.     A 
wonderfully  ingenious  and  effective  stage  version  of  this  charming  classic, 
ideally  suited  for  school  performance.     Strongly  recommended. 
Price,  25  cents 

COHEN'S  DIVORCE 

A  Sketch  in  One  Act 

By  G.  M.  Rosener 

For  two  male  characters,  Hebrew  and  straight.     Costumes,  eccentric ; 
any  scenery   will   answer.     Plays  twenty  minutes.     Good  character  talk 
and  very  funny  business;  can  be  made  very  effective. 
Price,  15  cents 


Novelties 


SCENES    IN  A  RESTAURANT 

An  Entertainment  in  One  Act 
By  Jessie  A.  Kelley 

Author  of  '-Our  Church  Fair,"  "  The  Village  Post-Office^ 

"Miss  Prim  s  Kindergarten"  etc. 

Fifteen  males,  ten  females.  Costumes  modern  ;  scenery  unimportant. 
Plays  one  hour.  A  hun/orous  presentation  of  what  happens  every  day  in 
.•he  average  restaurant,  hitting  everybody  right  where  they  live.  Sure  to 
be  popular.  All  parts  good  ;  lots  of  incident  and  chances  for  local  hits. 
Can  be  recommended. 

Price,  23  cents 


CHARACTERS 


Mr.  Jones,  bead  matter. 


Mr.  Rice,  a  mean  man. 

Mr.  Foss,  who  has  a  plan. 

Mrs.  Brett. 

Mrs.  Dacey. 

Mrs.  Slack,  deaf,  middle-aged,  and  stout. 

Miss  Drew. 

Mr.  Rich        )      .    . 

Mr.  Jackson    \actors- 

Reuben  Grass,  from  the  country. 

Mandy  Clover,  hii  best  girl. 


Mrs.  Smiley,  an  indulgent  mother. 
Maud,  her  daughter;  a  spoiled  child. 


Mr.  Hall,  a  health  crank. 
James,  his  servant. 
Mr.  Monroe,  a  chronic  kicker. 
Hiram  Greenback; ,  front  way  back. 
Mary  Ann,  his  wife. 

MrMahoW   \  r^t  from  Ireland. 


FUN  IN  A  THEATRICAL  OFFICE 

A  Vaudeville  Entertainment 
By  Maravene  Kennedy  Thompson 

Seven  males,  sixteen  females.  Costumes  modern  ;  scenery  unimportant 
Plays  a  full  evening.  A  complete  vaudeville  entertainment  in  itself  or  can 
be  used  as  the  frame  for  other  specialties;  a  "  go-as-you-please  "  show, 
very  elastic  and  adaptable  to  all  places  and  circumstances.  A  big  hit  in 
its  original  performance.  Strongly  recommended. 
Price,  25  cents 


CHARACTERS 


Luke  Loud,  a  theatrical!  agent. 
Bat,  hU  office  boy. 

Clara  Vere  De  Vere,  his  stenographer. 
Orchestra  Carr,  bis  pianivt. 

VAUDEVILLE  ARTISTS 

Gentlemen 

Pietro  De  Bianaco. 

George  Washington  Lincoln. 

6n  Getupangitski. 
:uben  I  laskins. 


Ladies 


Mrs.  Susan  Suffreno  Riser. 

Mrs.   Trailing  Arbutus  Flower,   and  Mi 

thirteen  children. 
Miss  Anise  Elderbloom. 
Frisky  Dewdrop. 
Fluffy  Flutter. 
Madame  Sylva. 
Mrs.  Bridget  Casey. 
Mrs.  Rulethe  Roost. 
Two  ladies/or  sketch  introduced. 
Mme.  Carmencita. 
"  Peach  "  Ott. 
Ruby  Ott. 
Goldie     | 

Birdie       J-  the  Coquette  Sister  i 
Queenie  i 


New  Plays 


THE  COMEDY  OF  ERRORS 

A  Comedy  in  Five  Acts 

By  William  Shakespeare 
Arranged  for  School  Performance 

Thirteen  male,  three  female  characters.  Costumes  appropriate ;  scenery 
of  no  importance.  Plays  two  hours.  An  arrangement  of  this  well-known 
play  for  schools,  simplified  so  far  as  possible  in  its  division  into  scenes, 
and  cut  and  rearranged  for  the  use  of  male  actors  only,  so  far  as  this  is 
possible.  The  rollicking  fun  of  this  play  has  been  too  long  disregardedt 
and  its  great  suitability  for  school  performance  by  boys  will  be  at  once 
seen.  Some  care  will  be  called  for  in  the  matter  of  costuming  it,  but  this 
labor  will  be  well  repaid. 

Price,  i$  cents 

FARO  NELL 

A  Vaudeville  Sketch  in  One  Act 
By  Willis  Steell 

Six  male,  one  female  characters.  Costumes,  Mexican  and  frontier ; 
scenery,  a  picturesque  interior.  Plays  twenty  minutes.  A  very  effective 
dramatic  sketch  with  a  star  part  for  a  woman.  Has  been  used  profession 
ally  in  vaudeville.  Good  character  and  strong  situations ;  can  be  strongly 
recommended  either  for  professional  use  in  vaudeville  or  for  private  per 
formance.  Professional  acting  rights  reserved. 
Price,  /j  cents 

MOR'D  ALICE 

A  Vaudeville  Sketch  in  One  Act 
By  Marion  Roger  Fawcett 

One  male,  two  female  characters.  Costumes  modern ;  scene,  an  easy 
interior.  Plays  fifteen  minutes.  A  very  slight  but  pretty  and  effective 
mingling  of  pathos  and  humor  for  an  eccentric  soubrette.  Can  be  recom 
Trended. 

Price,  13  cents 

THE  ALARM 

A  Vaudeville  Sketch  in  One  Act 

By  Marion  Roger  Fawcett 

Two  male  characters  who  double  two  other  parts.     Costumes  modern  ; 
scene,  an  easy  interior.    A  very  dramatic  sketch  for  a  man,  with  a  situation 
<J  much  power  and  pathos.     Recommended. 
Price,  15  cents 


New   Plays 


THE  COLONEL'S  MAID 

A  Comedy  in  Three  Acts 

By  C.  Leona  Dalrymple 
Author  of  "The  Time  of  His  Life,"  "The  Land  of  Night/'  etc. 

Six  males,  three  females.  Costumes,  modern  ;  scenery,  two  interiors. 
Plays  a  full  evening.  An  exceptionally  bright  and  amusing  comedy,  full 
of  action;  all  the  parts  good.  Capital  Chinese  low  comedy  part;  two 
first-class  old  men.  This  is  a  very  exceptional  piece  and  can  be  strongly 
recommended.  Price,  25  cents 

CHARACTERS 
COLONEL  ROBERT  RUDD,  a  widower  of  } 


of  South  Carolina  J 

BOB  RUDD  I    not  so  antagonistic  as  their  respective  fathers. 

MRS.  J.  JOHN  CARROLL,   a  widow,   and  Colonel  Rudd's  sister* 

in-law. 

JULIA  CARROLL,  her  daughter. 

NED  GRAYDON,  a  young  gentleman  of  exceedingly  faulty  memory. 
MR,  JAMES  BASKOM,  Colonel  Rudd's  lawyer. 
CHING-AH-LING,  the  Chinese  cook,  a  bit  impertinent  but  by  far  thi 
most  important  individual  in  the  cast. 

SYNOPSIS 

ACT  I.  —  Early  morning  in  the  kitchen  of  the  Rudd  bachelor 
establishment. 

ACT  II.  —  The  Rudd  library,  five  days  later. 
.    ACT  III.  —  The  same.     Evening  of  the  same  day. 

BREAKING  THE  ENGAGEMENT 

A  Farce  in  One  Act 

By  W.  C.  Parker 

Two  males,  one  female.    Costumes,  modern  ;  scene,  an  interior.     Plays 
twenty  minutes      A  quick  playing  little  piece  suitable  for  vaudeville  use. 
Very  bright  and  snappy  and  strongly  recommended. 
Price,  15  cents 

A  PAPER  MATCH 

A  Farce  in  One  Act 
By  E.  W.  Burt,  M.  D. 

Two  males,  two  females.  Costumes,  modern  ;  scene,  an  interior.  Plays 
thirty  fve  minutes.  Four  rustic  characters,  all  good.  The  heroine  ad 
vertises  for  a  husband  and  gets  her  aunt's  old  beau  to  their  mutual  horror 
Very  funny,  easy  and  effective  Price,  ij  cent* 


New  Publications 


THE  PROSPECTOR 

A  Comedy  in  Three  Acts 
By  Willis  Steell 

Six  male,  two  female  characters.  Costumes  modern ;  scenery,  two  in 
tenors.  Plays  two  hours.  A  compact  little  comedy  of  American  business 
life  of  the  populau  type.  Its  small  cast  naturally  gives  good  opportunity 
to  all  its  few  characters,  its  story  is  sympathetic,  its  action  brisk,  its  dia 
logue  good,  and  its  character-drawing  effective.  Strongly  recommended 
to  such  as  are  in  want  of  a  short  cast  and  easy  production.  Professional 
stage-rights  reserved.  Royalty  for  amateur  performance  ten  dollars 
($  10.00)  for  each  performance. 

Price,  jo  cents 

CHARACTERS 

TOM  PRESTON,  the  prospector. 

WALTER  SHEDE  (pronounced  Sha-dy). 

ROBERT  EMMETT  McGowAN. 

CHARLTON,  of  the  Charlton  Construction  Co. 

DR.  MANNING. 

MR.  JENKS,  an  agent. 

FELICIA  KELSO. 

KATE  CAREW. 

THE  GRAND  DICKENS  COSMORAMA 

Comprising   several   unique    entertainments    capable   ot 

being  used  separately  or  in  combination, 

for  school,  home  or  hall 

By  George  B~  Bartlett 

Strongly  recommended  as  a  Dickens  entertainment  for  its  variety  of 
material  and  comprehensiveness.     Itt  elasticity  in  the  matter  of  scale  fits 
it  for  the  use  of  either  large  or  small  occasions. 
Price,  25  cents 

COBWEBS 

A  Juvenile  Operetta  in  Three  Acts 

By  Elizabeth  P.  Goodrich 

Two  male,  four  female  characters.  Scenery,  all  interiors,  but  of  small 
importance ;  costumes  to  suggest  insects,  but  easily  arranged.  Plays  an 
hour  and  a  half.  A  very  pretty  little  operetta  for  children,  easily  gotten 
up.  The  music  is  original  and  is  published  complete  with  the  text  in  one 
volume.  Can  be  recommended. 

Price,  25  cents 


01*  Pinero's  Plays 

Price,  50  gents  Gacb 


PI  ay  in  Four  Acts.      Six  males,  five  females. 
Costumes,  modern;  scenery,  three  interiors. 
Plays  two  and  a  half  hours. 

THE  NOTORIOUS  MRS.  EBRSMITH  SS1'1!,^ 

males,  five  females.  Costumes,  modern;  scenery,  all  interiors. 
Plays  a  full  evening. 

™PJ?fll7I  IP  ATF    Play  in  Four  Acts.      Seven  males,  five 
1  i\VJT  L.iVJ/1  1  Ei    females.  Scenery,  three  interiors,  rather 
elaborate  ;  costumes,  modern.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

THE  Criinni  MTCTDEQC  Farce  in  Three  Acts.  Ninemalen, 
lllE.  OinUULLVliO  1  KE.dO  seven  females.  Costumes,  mod 
ern;  scenery,  three  interiors.  Plays  a  full  evening. 

THE  SECOND  MRS.  TANQUERAY  ggtln££,A!S 

females.  Costumes,  modern;  scenery,  three  interiors.  Plays  a 
full  evening. 

CWCTT  I  AVENHEP  Comedy  in  Three  Acts.  Seven  males, 
OWE.C.I  LAVtllLJEiR.  four  females.  Scene,  a  single  interior, 
costumes,  modern.  Plays  a  full  evening. 


TUTTAinEDDfU  T    Comedy  in  Four  Acts.    Ten  males, 
inUINLIILIVDULl     nine  females.    Scenery,  three  interi 
ors  ;  costumes,  modern.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

TU17  TIMFQ  Comedy  in  Four  Acts.  Six  males,  seven  females. 
IflEi  1  ilUCo  Scene.  a  single  interior;  costumes,  modern.  Plays 
a  full  evening. 

™?wr*yrp   CCY    Comedy  in  Three  Acts.    Eight  males, 
VT  CifvIvEiIV  OCA    eight   females.      Costumes,   modern  ; 
scenery,  t\vo  interiors.    Plays  a  full  evsning. 

A  WIFE  WITHOUT  A  SMILE  3^£tgS&$£ 

Costumes,  modern  ;  scene,  a  single  interior.    Plays  a  full  evening. 


Sent  prepaid  on  receipt  of  price  by 

falter  &  pafeer  &  Company 

No.  5  Hamilton  Place,  Boston,  Massachusetts 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Lop  Angeles 


Form  L9-17m-8,'55(B3339s4)444 


Sent  prepaid  on  receipt  of  price  by 

falter  ^,  "Baiter  a  Company 

ITo.  5  Hamilton  Place,  Boston,  Massachusetts 


JTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A  A      000245372    8 


